Harry Potter OneShots
by Dovewing123
Summary: A collection of ten one-shots from different characters at various points in the series.
1. Homecoming  Hermione

**This is a collection of ten one-shots I wrote in my Creative Writing class. Each is from the point of view of a different Harry Potter character, although Hermione's point of view is used twice. The stories are at various parts of the series; this first one in from Hermione's point of view on the train home from Hogwarts.**

Homecoming. Coming Home. I sit in the compartment my friends and I occupy, my forehead resting on the on the freezing cold glass as I stare at the quickly passing countryside. After the long, hectic year, I have a feeling summer will be dreadfully boring. Memories of the last few weeks surface in my mind: facing fluffy the three-headed dog with nothing but a wooden flute, falling through the trapdoor into a writhing room of Devil's Snare (I really lost my head in there – I can't believe I forgot I could just conjure fire with a spell!), helping Harry catch the key to the door, fighting across the chess board (I was so worried about Ron; that queen hit him hard!), and finally leaving Harry in the room of potions. Harry still hasn't told us exactly what happened in that last chamber. Sure he told us most of it, but I have the nagging feeling he glossed over or 'forgot to tell us' some bits. He's been quieter ever since he came out. I hope it wasn't too horrible.

My gaze moves from the window to the boys, who are talking about Quidditch and sharing a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans. Harry glances at me and motions at the candy, asking if I want any, so I smile and eat one of the jelly beans. Immediately my face screws up in disgust.

"Eugh! I got an ink flavored one."

Harry and Ron laugh before asking how I know what ink tastes like. Deciding to annoy them a bit, I just smile mysteriously – it irritates them to no end. Honestly, though, I expected them to know how I know what ink tastes like. With everybody doing work at the dining tables, some ink is bound to get into the food. And inevitably someone will accidentally eat some ink-covered food while distracted by a particularly riveting book. And that someone has, more often than I care to admit, been me.

My eyes fall to the window again and I sit up in surprise. We're back! The train rolls to a stop at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, which is filled with people. I spot Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's red hair without much trouble, but my own parents will be outside the barrier. Not for the first time after the whole Sorcerer's Stone debacle, I wonder whether I should tell my parents the whole truth about what happened during my time at Hogwarts. They always have worried about me, and I don't want them to keep me from going back to Hogwarts because it's 'too dangerous'. Sure, there were some dangerous bits during the year, but nothing too bad except for Harry nearly dying and Ron getting hurt by that queen – ok, so maybe that bit was awful, but I still don't want them to keep me away from Hogwarts. It's the first place I've ever made real friends. Oh well, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it, and I won't reach the bridge for at least five more minutes.


	2. Possibilities  Luna

**This one –shot is from Luna's perspective during seventh year, after breaking into Snape's office. **

Day 2 – It's been two days since my friends and I broke into Professor Snape's office in an attempt to steal the Sword. Two days since they locked me in my cell and my friends in theirs. Two days since my wand was taken. Two days. Two very long days. I sit up suddenly.

"No use in moping about, Luna. You know better than to let the glifters make you sad!"

To clear away the glifters (small, transparent creatures that inhabit the silence and make people feel sad) I start singing the Hogwarts song. The tune I choose is upbeat; I need to raise my spirits. A timid house elf slides a plate of food into my cell – they haven't been starving us, at least – and I thank her. I'm not very hungry, though.

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy-Warty Hogwarts…" I sing quietly.

Suddenly a thought occurs to me: If wandless magic is possible, then isn't the purpose of a wand just to focus the magic? Maybe a real spell won't work as well, but _intentions…_ like accidental magic, except on purpose. I pick up a spoon that came with my food – perhaps it will help me concentrate the power – and focus really hard on the room being lighter. The room actually brightens, surprising me just a bit.

My eyes shift to the plate of food again. _Well, I'm not hungry…_I think, and begin using the colorful bits of food to paint the cell. I continue to sing (I can't have glifters invading again), different songs now, content to sit and paint for as long as necessary. Strange, how people think that keeping you in an empty room constitutes a punishment. An empty room is full of possibilities!


	3. When in Disgrace Harry

**So for this piece I had a prompt. Actually, every other story of this collection has a prompt, but this one was a Shakespeare quote. "When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes." Remind you of any year? You got it: fifth year, and Harry is upset and angry at everyone. So I wrote a rant from Harry's point of view after the hearing but before school began.**

"When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes." I recall that phrase from a book I found in the library while hiding from Dudley. Shakespeare, I think it was. Hermione would probably know. That line describes my current state: in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes… just for telling the truth! But instead of heeding my warning, they ignore my words – no, worse, they ridicule me and Dumbledore and make both of us out to be liars. Liars and fools.

Dumbledore, of course, doesn't care. "As long as they don't take me off the chocolate frog cards," he says. Or he used to. I wouldn't know, would I? He doesn't even look at me anymore, let alone speak with me. But _why_? Why is he ignoring me like this? He should be helping me, training me – after all, Voldemort is after me – but instead he leaves me with the Dursleys for weeks on end and only lets me escape from them after being _attacked_ by _dementors_! _DEMENTORS_!

It's lucky I knew the patronus charm, or else Dudley and I would be worse than dead right now. Ugh. I hate dementors. They make me feel absolutely horrible. I shudder to think of how my third year would have ended had I not learned how to cast the patronus. But of course, the Ministry of Magic doesn't believe that there were dementors in Little Whinging. I reckon I only got off because Madam Bones was impressed by the charm.


	4. Worry Sirius

**So after Harry's fifth-year angry rant, we go back a year to after the first event and before the Hogsmeade visit where the trio meets up with Snuffles. This is a rant from Sirius' point of view.**

Well, my life is officially horrible. After my best friend died, I was wrongfully accused of betraying him and murdering thirteen people, thrown into Azkaban – without a trial, I might add – for twelve _miserable_ years, and when I finally escaped I had to stay hidden while I waited until I could prove my innocence. Then when I was _finally _about to be proven innocent, my proof turned into a rat and ran off to join Voldemort. So I had to go on the run again, and now my godson Harry is a _fourth_ contestant in the _Tri_wizard Tournament, a tournament that has been known to _kill_ people, and I am living in a cold cave with nothing to eat but rats.

Rats! I never really thought much about them before (except for on full moons), but now I loathe them with a burning passion. They taste absolutely horrible, even if they are slightly less nasty as a dog. Hopefully Harry, Ron, and Hermione will bring me some good food when they visit Hogsmeade next weekend. Oh, what I would give for a feast like the ones at Hogwarts… I haven't eaten as well as I did there since seventh year. Ah, food… 'tis a wonderful thing.

Oh, but it isn't important right now! Harry is in horrible danger. What can I do? He must compete; he has no choice. But he does not know enough to keep safe, that's why there was an age line – or does he? He did quite well with that dragon… but still. At least he has Hermione and Ron to help him with the next tasks.


	5. He Should Know Better Fred&George

**So I was planning on updating every day, but that ended up not happening because of homework and the fact that I had lots of stuff going on over the weekend. But I have nearly no homework tonight (yay), so I'm posting two chapters. This one is a note-passing scene between Fred and George, on the subject of pranking. Specifically, pranking Hermione. So without further ado…**

Ha! That was great, Fred! The look on his face…

_It was. Ron should know better than to trust us._

You would think, but apparently not.

_He's too easy of a target. Now if we could prank Hermione…_

We could try. She's a bit scary, though.

_She wouldn't get mad at us for a little prank._

Well… maybe… aren't she and Ron fighting?

_Aren't they always? Besides, all the more reason to prank her! She could use a bit of laughter. Come on!_

Fine, then, it'll have to be good. She's a tough girl to prank. She doesn't really trust us – she knows better. Remember the tarts?

_She thought we'd cursed them, yeah. Even though we hadn't… Neville got those treats._

We should put those out on Halloween. Show them all the true meaning of trick or treat.

_HA! Yes. But you aren't going to get away with changing the subject like that. I know you too well._

True statement. Alright then, ideas?

_Nothing yet. Oh, hide the paper, here she comes!_

WWW

_Alright, I'm fresh out of ideas. She's just too hard to prank! So have you thought of anything?_

No, nothing. She would see our pranks coming from a mile away – she always does. Unless…

_Wait – are you thinking what I think you're thinking?_

Why yes, I do believe I am. Do you agree?

_Agree? This is brilliant! I can't believe we didn't think of this AGES ago. This is going to be hilarious!_

Hopefully she's think it's funny. She'll probably be furious at first – we'll have to be careful not to get our heads bitten off.

**If any of you have any ideas as to what the prank should be (should have been?), feel free to leave your idea in a review. Have a happy Tuesday!**


	6. The Clothes Make The Man Malfoy

**So here's today's second update. You remember when I said every other chapter of this had a prompt? I lied. I'm typing these up in the order they are in my notebook, and I did prompt #17 before #16, with #16 being the non-prompted one. So this one has a prompt – The clothes make the man – and the next two chapters don't. Not that it really matters.**

**So anyway, the prompt made me immediately think of the Yule Ball. Since we already had Harry's perspective and Ron was right next to him half the time and I didn't want to write Hermione again (I did later, but not for this), who better of a narrator than Malfoy? On with the show!**

"The clothes make the man." That is what Father has always told me, and he is quite right. That is why I am dressed for the Yule Ball in the finest dress robes money can buy. The Weasel, on the other hand, is dressed in some disgusting excuse for a robe – it looks as if it is hundreds of years old. Potter's dress robes, I have to admit, aren't that bad. Plain, yes, but not horrible.

Pansy Parkinson, that annoying girl who follows me everywhere, looks pretty – although I do wish she would let go of me. The way she hangs off my arm all the time is _really _irritating. I let my thoughts wander a bit, going over some of today's conversations. Lost in thought as I am, I barely notice Pansy's gasp of surprise. But notice it I do, and I turn in feigned interest at whatever she is looking at. Feigned, that is, until my eyes fall on the subject of her surprise.

A girl has just walked in, hair piled elegantly atop her head with a few strands hanging down to frame her face. She wears robes of a soft periwinkle blue that seem to float around her. She looks familiar, but I am having trouble recognizing her enough to place her. Then it hits me – but it can't be!

… Granger?

Is it really Hermione Granger? And… is that Krum she's with? How… ugh. Pansy is tugging at my arm again. Her voice is so annoying and whiny! Professor McGonagall is talking now, and people are starting to filter into the Great Hall. The Yule Ball is Officially beginning.


	7. History of Magic  Anonymous

**I realized shortly after I posted the last chapter that I have neglected to put of disclaimers saying that I do not own the rights to Harry Potter. So here it is: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter. At all. Not in the slightest.**

**So anyway, this one-shot is from the point of view of an anonymous student during second year, when Hermione asks Professor Binns about the Chamber.**

History of Magic class again – boring. This class is such a joke. I doubt Professor Binns would even notice if nobody showed up for class. He doesn't seem to care that nobody pays attention. Well, except for Hermione Granger, but nobody else ever listens to Binns. But today something interesting happens: Hermione Granger raises her hand.

Now, this is not unusual in and of itself; Granger raises her hand in all the other classes whenever the teacher asks a question. But in History of Magic, the only time anyone would raise their hand would be to ask for clarification – in other words, never. Anyway, Professor Binns stops droning on and stares at Hermione, startled. I don't think anybody has raised a hand in this class since he became a ghost.

"Yes, Miss…" he trails off, at a loss to her name.

"Granger, sir. I was wondering if you could tell us about the Chamber of Secrets?"

Everybody perks up at those words – ever since Mrs. Norris was found petrified, we have all been dreadfully curious about what the chamber of secrets is. Personally, I'm surprised that Hermione doesn't know. I'm pretty sure everyone thinks that Hermione knows almost everything. If anyone said something about it, she would deny it, but that doesn't stop us thinking it. She does act like a know-it-all most of the time, so our thoughts on the matter are not unprecedented. Binns starts talking again, so I lean forward to listen.


End file.
